Love on its own is still love I declare,
It doesn't matter what poets may say.
A rose is not in touch with emotion,
And plants draw their life from other's decay.
Love on its own doesn't cry this I swear,
And lilies bend just when water's lacking
If love causes grief don't cry an ocean
These new depths might just lead to more fracking.
Philosophy may be no match for pain
But I think there's no cause for surrender
You think it does any better with joy?
Maybe we should just go on a bender?
What may I ask is it you hope to gain
When your senses around you are reeling?
Could it be your request's a childhood toy?
Your adult sees no profit in feeling.
Love on its own never hears its own moan ,
Its beloved one's cry never shirking,
No pause if weather be foul or fair,
Its empathic power always working.
Love on its own brings to peace every groan
And it brings every heart its own answer
And just when you're sure there's no one to care
Always love is its own tiny dancer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful flow of words. Hope seems to be like a request’s for a childhood toy... Its same like meaningless hope. Love on its own bring peace to every groan, when you are sure there is no one to care. Wonderful write. Loved reading it.